


A bet's a bet

by allthatconfetti



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Belgium NT, Belgium National Team, FIFA World Cup 2014, M/M, Tottenham Hotspur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthatconfetti/pseuds/allthatconfetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jan scores the winning goal against South Korea. Mousa knows that a bet's a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A bet's a bet

**Author's Note:**

> It can work as a sequel to Reward, but can also stand alone. Sexytime fic usually does :))

Jan was always a little shit whenever he scored goals.

This happened a lot during their first season at Tottenham. He would score a goal, give Mousa the wickedest grin, and by the end of the day Mousa would find himself, here, in bed, between Jan's legs, sucking him off. That was their deal, their version of a friendly contest, and between the two of them, they were fiercely competitive. It was a tradition that stretched back to their years at Germinal Beerschot, and the rules didn't change wherever they were, whether they were with their club or with the national team.

Or whether they were with the national team, at the World Cup, and Jan had just scored the winner versus Korea.

A tug on his neck brings him back to the present. "Stop thinking," Jan gasps, and Mousa looks up at him, looks at how debauched he looks, his normally perfect locks mussed and his lips swollen from kissing. It's how Mousa likes Jan best, because this was the Jan only he was privy to -- loose, uninhibited, and oftentimes wildly inappropriate.

"I'm thinking about how much of a pain in the ass you are," Mousa quips, and he takes the head of Jan's cock into his mouth before Jan replies. Jan inhales sharply, and it fills Mousa with as much pleasure as it does pain when the hand on his neck grips a little too tightly. He likes it when he can wipe the playful smirk off Jan's face, when he does something that takes him by surprise.

He takes as much of Jan in his mouth as he can, sliding his mouth slowly down his cock. Jan breathes out incoherent Flemish. He pinches Jan's hip playfully when he bucks into his mouth. He can be a little shit too.

Mousa wants to take his time, wants to take Jan apart and piece him back together. He licks the length of him slowly, almost languidly. The moans pouring out of Jan's mouth are close to whimpers. "Mou--" he chokes, his voice high-pitched and cracking. "Mousa." His hips strain under Mousa's firm grip.

No, Mousa thinks, not yet.

He pulls back and kisses his way up Jan's torso, his tongue leaving a wet trail from the defender's stomach to his collar bone, his hand still stroking Jan's cock firmly. Jan's head is tilted back, his eyes are closed, and his mouth is slack. Mousa thinks he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He presses his open mouth to a spot behind Jantje's ear, just below where his hair feathered softly onto his nape. Jan cries sharply and drags his lips across Mousa's cheek, searching.

"Mousa, love, please," he begs into his ear, his voice quiet and wrecked. His hands roam restless across the other's skin, gripping and touching, and his hips jerk desperately against his hand. "Please."

"Now," Mousa says, his voice raspy and low. "Let go for me, Jantje. I've got you." He kisses him, swallowing the moans rising from the back of his throat, and moves his hand faster.

He feels Jan unravel, and fall apart with a desperate cry. He has him. He has all of him.


End file.
